Living a Lie
by Ukaisha
Summary: The heartbreaking true story of how Eric Cartman came out to South Park. Except, it's basically all just a show, Butters is an incompetent cameraman, Kyle is both unintentionally a homophobe and an unrequited love interest, and Liane gets more pussy than a Chinese buffet. (crackfic)


A/N: This is just a sort of silly fanfic to relieve stress while I work on my Big Damn Fanfic (codename FWIS for the time being) for the Big Bang. It WILL be finished eventually but updates will be sporadic.

Hope you enjoy :D

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Living a Lie

Eric dipped the comb under the running tap water and ran it through his hair, parting it just so and smoothing it over his temple just so. He leaned over the sink to allow any stray droplets to fall into the basin rather than on his clothes, which at the moment consisted of a nicely pressed three piece suit, the jacket to which was unbuttoned, and a dark red tie hanging limply around his neck. The suit didn't really fit him very well, and in some places they were straining with the task of containing the sizable body trapped inside. But for the most part, he looked not only presentable but dressed to kill, and that was exactly his goal. Figuratively, anyway.

He set down the comb and turned his head side to side, ensuring that not a hair was out of place, and then he surveyed his outfit one last time just in case a bit of lint or a drop of water had somehow managed to sneak onto anything. As he inspected himself in the mirror, he heard someone coming up the hall and eventually stop at the bathroom door. In the mirror, Eric could plainly see Butters peering over the threshold, curiously, but regardless, he felt the need to announce his arrival and cautiously knock on the open door.

"Um, hey, Eric, it's me."

"Ah, yes, Butters," he greeted in his most diplomatic tone. He'd begun to work at the tie around his neck; like the suit, it was going to be a tight fit, owing largely to the sheer girth of his neck. Eric pretended to be unperturbed by this. "Did you get the camera all set up?"

"Well, I got it out of the case alright, and I think I put it together good."

"Excellent, excellent," he praised, continuing to put forth the effort to sound courteous. The tie was still being difficult, and he was having trouble moving his arms around in the suit. "If you could just do a few mic checks and make sure the sound quality is nice and clear, then that's all we'll need to get started."

Butters didn't reply for a moment. Eric watched him out of the corner of his eye at first, but then his gaze was forced to return to the tie. He kept messing up the knot, and it refused to come down smoothly. It was testing his patience.

"Uh, well, about that Eric..."

"What?" he grunted, and this time it came out crude and short; he was about to give up on the tie and maybe go find a clip-on somewhere.

"It's just, you see, I don't really know how to _use_ any of that stuff."

"What are you talking about, Butters?" he snapped. His hands were starting to lose focus, and his attempts to fix the tie were becoming more and more sloppy. "You said you and your family used to make home movies all the time."

"Yeah, but, we had a 'Hello Kitty Fantastic Film Friends' Camera. I've never used none of this fancy stuff before."

Eric simultaneously threw his hands up and gave up on the tie, and he spun around to confront Butters over this unexpected, unpleasant development. "Butters, you could have told me that BEFORE I went through all the trouble of getting professional camera equipment!" he castigated.

Butters was ringing his hands now, and his eyes began rapidly shifting from the floor to Eric's chest, never quite meeting his face. "Well I tr-tried to tell ya, honest I did, b-but you didn't really give me a ch-chance when you were-"

"Oh, just, shove it Butters," Eric interjected. "Stop already. Forget it. We'll figure out how to cover up for your incompetence later."

"Ah, okay," he acquiesced, and he continued to mope around the threshold, quietly dejected.

Eric returned to the mirror and smoothed down his hair. A little lackluster, he decided, and he liberally began rubbing in some strong smelling oil into it until he was satisfied. There; at least that looked good. The tie, however, continued to hang limply around his neck like a dead animal. He just sighed heavily at it; maybe not everything was going according to plan, but he couldn't afford to let these small inconveniences ruin everything. He was an actor, after all, and the show must go on. Thus, after quickly washing and drying his hands, he again turned away from the mirror with his temper reset.

Eagerly, like he was already trying to make up for flubbing up his job as Eric's cameraman, he complimented him right away. "Gee Eric, you sure look nice! That's a real good lookin' suit."

"Yeah, yeah," Eric muttered. He was already on his way out of the bathroom, and he strode right past Butters, assuming he would follow. Unsurprisingly, he did. "Alright, so we go on YouTube and find some videos about how to run the equipment. I've already got the confession room set up-"

"Where's that gonna be?" Butters asked.

"It's in my closet, Butters, I already told you this!" Eric berated. Maybe his temper wasn't _completely _settled. "The confession room is in the closet because it's a metaphor for hiding that you're gay! Remember?"

"Oh," he answered meekly. "Yeah, sorry."

"So after we get the equipment set up, we start taping some of the monologues now, and we can tape some of the confessions later as the story unfolds. That way it'll be more sincere, right?"

"Right," Butters agreed.

"I've already got most of the material I want to cover written down, but I might need you to hold up a cue card now and then to remind me, because some of this stuff is gonna be pretty intense."

"You should give me like, little signs or something," Butters suggested. "Like, little hints that you need me to hold up your notes."

Eric snapped his fingers and pointed over his shoulder at Butters. "See, that's exactly what I thought," he told him, and Butters puffed up and looked tremendously happy with himself. "I'll have some tells that'll let you know when I need a cue card for my next topic."

They both entered Eric's room, and right away, Eric began issuing orders like a general addressing troops. "Alright, now get on YouTube and find as many 'Camerawork for Dummies' videos as you can find. Then do sound checks on the equipment and make sure the confession room is lit up enough. Also, I already wrote out a list of tells for when I need my notes; it's on the desk, I need you to memorize that as soon as possible, and don't fuck them up Butters, because I have everything carefully planned and organized exactly how I want it and if you give me the wrong tell at the wrong fucking time, then you're fired."

"Oh, gee, I don't wanna be fired..."

"Shut up, Butters." He'd begun pacing, holding his hands behind his back and continuing to address Butters with a solemn tone. "This is a delicate operation Butters, probably the most important one of my life and the most important thing you'll ever help me with. A kid only has one chance to come out of the closet, and if I can't come out right, I may as well not even deserve to be gay."

Butters absorbed all of this effortlessly, and when Eric finished, he rendered a mock salute. "Yes sir!" he cried.

"Butters, don't do that. You look ridiculous."

"Oh." Butters wilted again, and his hand fell back to his side. "Okay, sorry." Then, a thought occurred to him, and he asked, "Hey, what are you gonna be doing while I do all that other stuff?"

"Butters, I'm the star of this documentary," he explained with exaggerated impatience. "I need time to review my notes and brainstorm on some potential improv I may have to throw in if things don't follow the script. I need time to get _into character_. If I can't even do any of that, what's the point of even making the film?"

"Oh." Butters frowned thoughtfully and nodded. "That makes sense, I guess."

"Alright then, now that that's settled-" Eric clapped his hands and rubbed them together enthusiastically. "-let's get started! If we have the monologues finished by five o'clock, then we can come out to my mother when she gets home from work."

"Got it boss!" But, instead of running to the computer and perusing YouTube, Butters instead stepped up directly in front of Eric, and he took both ends of the tie in his hands.

Eric tried to take a step back, (he couldn't; he was bound by the tie) and he asked, suspiciously, "Butters, what are you doing?"

"Well, uh, you couldn't get it fixed, but my dad showed me how to do up a tie real good. See?" and, expertly, his hands wove around and dove into loops and managed to produce a satisfactory tie, which he then dropped and then smoothed down across Eric's chest. "There, now you're ready for your debut," he announced, again sounding pleased with himself.

"...Butters, don't do shit like that anymore, that's totally gay dude."

Butters looked bewildered. "But, I thought-"

"_I'm_ gay Butters, not you. Don't do gay shit like that during my documentary or it's going to wig me out."

"I wasn't, honest!" he insisted. He'd gone back to ringing his hands. "I j-just thought you needed your tie and it was all j-just a'lyin there all loose and undone and stuff..." He trailed off ineffectively, and Eric just pointed at the computer.

"Research, Butters."

"Yes sir," said Butters, again dejected as he plodded towards the desk.

Eric at first took a moment to hold up the tie. He pulled weakly at it to ensure that it was done correctly, and it seemed to be. It was a little tight, but from what he could see, (though he had trouble looking down at it, what with his many chins in the way) it looked to be alright. He just shrugged; he supposed Butters had to come in handy at least some of the time. Statistically, he couldn't be a complete failure at _everything_.

He sat on his bed gingerly, careful not to wrinkle any of his suit, and he pulled a stack of crisp, printed pages from his nightstand. On it was a script, neatly typed, and at the top, a title.

Living a Lie  
The Eric Cartman Story

"Hello, my friends," Eric mumbled, testing the words out on his tongue and feeling them out. He'd added the "my friends" part to hopefully make the introduction more personal, but he wondered if he should take it out. It sounded insincere. Well, he'd run through it a few times and decide. He continued to read, slowly, "Hello my friends. My name is Eric Cartman, and I'm about to express to you a truth, a dark secret about me that has never seen the light of day. For all of my young life I have imprisoned this truth inside of me for fear of persecution, and I feel that it is finally time to come clean, to allow that truth to escape and become a free man once and for all." Here, he paused for effect. He counted the seconds; one, two three. "I'm gay," he admitted, and as he spoke, he looked away from an invisible camera and he flinched, as though the words hurt him, as though just hearing them aloud caused him torment beyond belief.

He wondered if maybe that was pushing it a little and maybe he should be more straightforward about it, show a little pride rather than shame. No, he decided, pride would come later; shame should come first and then evolve into pride. Plot wise, it made more sense.

"Uh, Eric, most of these videos are a good half hour long-"

"Watch them, Butters!" Eric ordered sharply. "Take notes if you need to!"

"Aw, well, okay..." Butters was mumbling sorely to himself, but Eric paid him no mind.

"I'm gay," he repeated, this time a little less shamefaced but no less hurt. That seemed good; he liked that. Sincere but not melodramatic. Sincerity would be important for the most important documentary of his life. "And this is my story."


End file.
